Love in a Bottle
by fhjirskv
Summary: Jimmy keeps his love is bottled in, driving him to the point where he says things he knows he shouldn't have. But will the consequences be more than he can handle?
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is my first "fun" fic (meaning chock full with suspense, adventure, and drug busts! ...Okay, maybe not drug busts. But once I learn how to write them properly, there will be plenty of fight scenes, suprises, and definitely romance). I feel like I should explain myself now, and let you know about my depiction of the characters. Cindy is much like myself in this story, which happens to be much how she is in real life. She's left-handed, because she's too cool to be right-handed. And if she was truly made for Jimmy, she would be. Think about it. Anyways, she also is in band. 1st chair bassoon. I play bassoon, but I'm second chair. The rest of her section's names are Drew and Zachary, where mine are Andrew and Zac (they sit on either side of me, and they're both like, 6'4". I feel so dwarfed by them at 5'6"). Jimmy plays trombone, like this kid I had the hots for in the beginning of the year. Oh, and I'm not a morning person, and I don't like them. If I said any more I would be giving too much away. **

**If you've read through my ranting and are reading this now, you must really want to read the story. This is just the prologue, also located at the end of my other fic's latest chapter. I will get the first chapter up asap. **

**Disclamer (which applies to all my chapters): If I owned Jimmy, I would not be sitting in front of my computer writing _fan_fiction. Therefore, I am a fangirl. Jimmy belongs to a good close friend of mine, John A Davis, and Nickelodeon. However, if Nick decides to eighty-six Jimmy, I'll gladly buy him. **

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Love in a Bottle  
By me, Cassi Mo.

Prologue: a New evil?

_A figure sat in the sumptuous office, occupying the only chair in the room. To her back was a window that took up one wall, showing off her lavish kingdom down below. Abruptly, the figure turned from her cluttered desk to face this window in anger and frustration. _

"_I don't get it! Why is my mind suddenly blank when I set out to destroy him? I can't just go and capture him, he's protected his stupid inventions and that crazy dog. I can't send a hit man to out and kill him, there's too much risk of it being traced back to me, and I can't afford to land in the slammer again." The voice had grown calmer as its owner thought out loud, becoming more and more pondering as she went on. "I couldn't—"_

"_Ma'am!" A minion clad in white armor burst into the office. "They're leaving! They're going now, and you didn't tell them what you wanted for lunch! Quick, tell me now, and I can catch up to them before it's too late!"_

_The figure looked at the out of breath guard with boredom and annoyance. "TK-421, why aren't you at your post? And how many times do I have to tell you to call me something more authority-inducing, like Your Excellence, or Potentate?"_

_TK-421 cocked his head in confusion. "But… Th-The meal," he stuttered, but the figure cut him off. _

"_I'm not hungry. I've got a lot of things to do this afternoon, and eating doesn't exactly crack my top ten. Now go back to your post before I kidnap you and lock you in the S-Wing."_

"_Yes, ma'—I mean, Potentate." TK-421 saluted and left quickly. He couldn't think of any punishment worse than the S-Wing, except… the T-Wing. He had never been there before, but rumor had it no one came out of there alive. _

_Meanwhile, the figure in her office was struck with a brilliant idea, as if a light bulb was suddenly switched on above her head. _

"_Kid…Kidnap… that's it!" The figure snapped her fingers. "If I can't get to him, I'll get him to me! If I take the person closest to him, I can lure him here, and destroy him on my own turf. The death of Jimmy Neutron will make me the most renowned, feared and revered villain in the universe! Jimmy will finally see what revenge tastes like from the other end!"_

_The figure then pushed a button on her desk and TK-421 reappeared on her doorway. "Get two other men and prep the T-Wing for me." At the guard's shudder, she sighed in exasperation. "It's not for you, dipstick. But make sure the sheets are clean, and the floor and walls are cleaned of any old blood. We're going to have a very special guest there soon."

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**Well, now I know I've got you itching for more. I really liked how the pro turned out. I won't talk more, just leave with my golden rule: Always review how you want to be reviewed. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it!**


	2. I Never Understood Boys Anyways

**Wow. I'm a faster typer than I thought I was. I don't think I need to really elaborate on this chapter, except C.Mo is me, and I know Jimmy is way OOC, but it makes sense in later chapters. He doesn't stay that way. **

**Anyways, on with the goodness. I'm really proud of this story as a whole. I've already written (yes, written) 40-ish pages on it, so I assume it will be a while before I catch up to myself. **

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Love in a Bottle  
By me, Cassi Mo.

Chapter one: I Never Understood Boys Anyways.

_Beep…Beep…Beep…_

"Well, well, this is C.Mo in the mo'ning, with all the best tunes and top reports. Here's a favorite of mine, _Promise_, by Spoken. Enjoy!" A friendly female voice filled the bedroom, mingling with sunlight that fell across the bed from the window.

"Guhhhhhhh." (a/n: that is pronounced the way it looks.) Sixteen-year-old Jimmy Neutron tried to fight the haze of sleep that threatened to invade him again and failed. With a thump, his hand unconsciously slammed down on the "snooze" button of his alarm clock.

Nine minutes later, he sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide open.

C.Mo spoke again with a smile in her voice. "God, that was loud. I hope no one had to wake up to that truck horn."

Jimmy groaned, this time more awake, yet still half-asleep. He literally rolled out of bed, almost falling on top of his dog, Goddard. _Man, I've got to get more sleep. Oh well, that's what school is for. Not like I learn anything there anyways,_ Jimmy thought with a sleepy chuckle. Sure, he loved to be in school, but he was a certified genius. All the honors and AP classes in the world wouldn't do him any good, unless they were world languages classes. That was his current "project" now, to learn more languages than Cindy. As of yet, she had him beat by four, but he was catching up swiftly.

As his thoughts drifted to her, he idly gazed out of his bedroom window across the street to hers. No movement. _Whatever. I don't like her anyways._ Truth was, he didn't like Cindy Vortex, his former sworn enemy and now friendly rival. He **loved** her. _I guess Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said to love your enemies…_

After trying to eat his soap like toast in the shower, Jimmy sighed. _Note to self: Sunday is a school night!_

Jimmy stumbled down the stairs ten minutes later, his eyes only half-open. Following the soap-toast mishap were several more, including putting his clothes on inside out, his toothbrush going in hisnewly red Whippy-Dip hair, and his shoes being placed on the wrong feet.

Jimmy mumbled a salutation to his mother, who didn't even talk to him, just handed him his toast and went on making breakfast for his father. She knew he was not easy to be with in the morning, as she was, so she just left him alone.

Surprisingly, Jimmy did not miss the bus this morning. In fact, he was rather early. Jimmy smiled at this thought; he really was quite lazy. School was less than a quarter of a mile away, yet he still chose to ride the bus. _This early in the morning, I know I'd get lost even though it's pretty much a straight shot_. As he walked toward his bus stop where his old friends waited, he munched on his toast (with his free hand, since his other hand was laden with his trombone case), and groaned inwardly upon seeing three bright and happy faces belonging to his peers. He was the only one out of their group of five not a morning person and he suffered greatly for it.

"Here, Jim, have some coffee! It's great stuff!" One of Jimmy's best friends, Sheen, held out an empty coffee cup toward Jimmy with a shaking hand.

"Sheen, what have we told you about coffee?" Jimmy scolded his friend. He then turned to the African-American girl standing next to Sheen pointedly. "Libby, how could you let this happen… again?"

"Nuh-uh." Libby shook her head. "This was not my fault. He came here with that. And when I got here, it was already empty."

"Empty!" Sheen looked furious. "Where are they, the cats that stole my caffeine? I'll kill 'em!"

"Sheen—" Jimmy started, but he was interrupted.

"Oh, no! It's got him, in its evil clutches! Sheen's got the morning sickness!" Jimmy's other best friend, Carl wailed, always the over-reactor.

"Would everybody be quiet!" Jimmy yelled. Once everybody shut up, he continued, calmer. "First off, it's too early to even be alive. Second, morning sickness is what you get when you're pregnant. I seriously doubt Sheen has that."

"Thirdly, it's only Monday. I don't want to start off yet another week with Neutron yelling at us every morning." Cindy Vortex walkedin the direction ofher group slowly, trying to man her backpack, purse, bassoon case, and open can of Thin-Fast.

As Jimmy walked toward her with a strange look on his face, Cindy answered his mental question. "We've known each other for a good eight years; I should be able to guess what you're going to say nowadays."

Jimmy smirked. That _was_ what he thought, but he wasn't about to let her know that. "Actually, I came to take your instrument from you. You look like you're having trouble."

Cindy snorted. "I'm not a damsel in distress; I can take care of myself." But Jimmy still took her bassoon anyways. She noticed his eyes dart toward her left hand, the one with the can in it. She stopped that question as well, again surprising him.

"Shut it, Fudge Top," she snapped. "I don't drink it because I think I'm fat, because I don't, but because it's filling, portable, and takes no time to prepare. I was running late and couldn't eat any cereal."

"What?" This time, Jimmy was not thinking what she thought he was.

"You know, Cindy," Sheen piped in, "Over-defensiveness over a question unasked is often a sign of denial. Or it means you're hiding something. Out with it."

Cindy opened her mouth to retort, but just then the bus came. To Cindy its timing could not have been better. She watched Sheen mouth "we'll talk about this later" over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. Before she knew it, the bus was already at their school and it was time to start another week.

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Days at the Retroville Academy had a tendency to meld into each other, making the weeks pass much quicker. Jimmy couldn't believe he was almost done with half of high school already. As he got off the bus he waited for his longtime friends… and Cindy. Noting her stride was slower due to everything she had to manage, Jimmy stepped over next to her, trying not to startle her.

"Do you want to trade?"

"Um, I buy my lunch, Nerdtron."

"No, dipstick, instruments."

"Why?"

"Because mine is lighter and I feel guilty seeing you walk around with all that."

Cindy sighed exasperatedly. "You know how I feel about being doted upon."

"Just imagine what it would be like if we were dating."

"What?" Cindy looked disgusted. "Ew. No. Don't say that again. Ugh. What goes through your head?"

Jimmy just smiled, took her instrument and left his, and walked away.

Cindy leaned toward her best friend, Libby, as they walked. "Some days, I just don't understand boys."

Just then Carl and Sheen popped out of seemingly nowhere and started talking, their sentences melding perfectly.

Boys are very simple, really."

"If you don't get them, you're thinking too hard."

"Girls are complicated."

"I never understood them."

"You do all they say, and they're still unhappy."

"Maybe they're like guys."

"What, really simple?"

The two boys looked at each other simultaneously and said in unison, "Nah."

Cindy stared at them. "Hello, I wasn't talking to either of you. I was talking to Libby. Didn't your mothers ever teach you not to eavesdrop?"

They shrugged and disappeared again.

After they left, Libby looked at her best friend. "He's crazy about you. But I don't know why he bothers. Even though you admitted to me you 'love' him, you sure don't act like it."

Cindy looked away. "What do you think of redheads? I think they're hot. Did you see that special of TRL with Shaun White? That kid is amazing."

"I think you're thinking of another redhead."

"Ew. Carl is so gross."

Libby shook her head in frustration.

Cindy sighed. "I know, I know." She then muttered something in rapid Romanian, which loosely translated to, "I've just spent all this time that I've known him hating him, and to be nice to him all of a sudden would be too weird. Idon't want toscare him off."

Libby smiled. She knew Romanian as well as Cindy. They used it when they didn't want people to know what they were talking about. She replied in that tongue. "If you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, he'll scream and struggle to get out. But if you put him in a pot of cool water, and heat it up little by little, he won't notice the water's too hot until it's too late."

"What?" Cindy replied in English. That didn't make any sense.

Libby ignored her and continued in Romanian. "If you're nice to him all of a sudden, he'll get suspicious. But if you start out slow and get nicer to him slowly, he'll take it easier and won't be scared or anything."

"Oh my God, Libby, you're a genius!" Cindy cried, in English. She hugged her best friend wildly. "But where do I start?"

"I'll help you there."

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**Oh, yeah. I don't own _Promise _by Spoken, but it's a good song, especially to listen to while reading this chapter. I love having songs in fics, but I hate songfics. Go figure. And another thing that makes Cindy like me is that she has a thing for redheads (Shaun White! swoons), and so do I. **

**Anways, here I must depart. Always review how you want to be reviewed. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it!**


	3. Your Words Rip and Tear

**So, FFNet was being a bitch lately, I'll bet you all had the same problems too. I want to thank timkjh ( I think I got that right) for telling me to use a .txt format, and even though you have to go through it to fix everything personally, it beats not having anything at all. So don't complain!**

**Just to clear everything up and to make sure I don't get sued, I do not in any way own Dear Angel. April Sixth, one of the best bands in the area, is responsible for that. It really is a great song, too. Listening to it here would make the experience of this chapter much more satisfying. Oh, and I don't own Stephenson's Rocket, which is also a real song. Pretty spankin' bassoon part.**

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Love in a Bottle  
By me, Cassi Mo.

Chapter 2: Your Words Rip and Tear

"You know, you're acting really out-of-character, Jimmy," Sheen commented to his distressed friend walking to homeroom with him. "What's with the whole being-nice-to-Cindy deal?"

Jimmy threw his face into his hands. "She slips into my being easier than a virus," he moaned, "and viruses make you sick. Holding in my daily increasing feelings all the time is making me sick. I have to do _some_thing!" Jimmy raked his hands through his hair and groaned. "Maybe I'm coming on too strong and scaring her off. Maybe I should just be mean to her like always so she won't fall away through my fingers in fear."

"Maybe you're over-thinking this, Jim," Carl tried to comfort his friend. "You over-think a lot of stuff. Love is not one of them to be thoroughly thought out. Just go with the flow, act like you always do, and let her come to you. She already knows you like her anyways."

"She does?" Jimmy's eyes grew wide.

"Well, if she didn't before, she does now. You certainly made yourself more than obvious this morning," Sheen scoffed.

"Great," Jimmy complained. He sighed. "Okay, I have to pull myself together. Act normal. Don't be too forward and let her come to me. I can do that." Suddenly Jimmy turned to face Carl. "How do you know this stuff?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hey," Carl protested, "I calls 'em as I sees 'em." He smiled. "No, really? I learned the hard way. Now I know what not to do. Actually, I still might be doing things wrong. None of my methods have worked."

"Carl, you're too shy, man!" Sheen explained. "If you like a girl, tell her. Letting them come to you is the lazy way and makes you seem too overconfident..."

"I don't know why I even ask them," Jimmy muttered as he tuned Sheen out and walked away from the two, now arguing over how to get more girls.

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_Last period._ _Finally._ Cindy walked through the doors leading to the band room, more than prepared to get this strange day over with. Jimmy had been acting weird all day, not even talking to or arguing with her unless she started something first. All this was running through Cindy's mind as she walked through the band room to the locker area and in front of her locker, conveniently located beneath Jimmy's. He, of course, had his face inches away from his lock, fumbling to get the combination right. Cindy pulled him away by the shoulder, not only so she could through but so she could talk to him. She stepped forward and put the numbers into his lock and got the locker open on her first try. She swung the door open and turned around to face him before he could get in. 

"Okay, Neutron, out with it," she demanded. "Why are you acting so strange today?"

"God, Vortex, what are you, my mother?" Jimmy looked at Cindy with annoyance in his blue eyes. "I don't have to answer to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to my seat with everything before Mr. MacDonald yells at me. But if he does, I'll just blame it on you." Cindy heard some kids snicker around her, but they quickly shut up when she glared at them.

As he turned and walked away with his stuff, Cindy stood before her own locker, her jaw slack in shock. What was this? She had vowed to be nicer to this boy, and he decides to be meaner? _No one gets away with being snotty to Cindy Vortex_, she thought. Shoving her reed into her mouth, she grabbed her stuff and stormed into the band room.

She was halfway to her stand when Mr. MacDonald, who was in the middle of announcements, stopped her. "Ms. Vortex!" Mr. MacDonald hissed at Cindy. "You're late! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have to say that I was detained by a metaphorically big-headed kid who decided to give me some lip," Cindy replied calmly, "so I'm not in the mood. Can you just give me my punishment and get on with class?"

"Very well," Mr. MacDonald conceded. "Stay after for detention tomorrow."

Cindy shrugged as she walked to her seat as first chair bassoon. Detentions didn't faze her, especially those for band. All she needed to do was stay after and maybe put some chairs away or something. Her section, Drew and Zachary, gave her strange looks, as she had never been known to talk back to the band director. "What are you staring at!" She snapped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jimmy snap his head straight forward as well. _Crap. I can't do anything right today_.

"Okay class, give me a C-flat major scale, all state pattern, f_orte_," Mr. MacDonald commanded. (In plain English that means a scale with all notes down one half-step, really fast, and loud.)

"Five bucks says Cindy will play _fortissimo_ to be louder than Jimmy," Cindy heard Drew whisper to Zachary. She did not particularly like either of them, but today she thought it would be funny if Drew lost some money. She played _mezzo-forte_.

As she noticed Drew digging in his pocket for the bet money, she commented, "Maybe now you won't make your bets so loudly. You've already lost twenty bucks this week." Looking around, Cindy saw multiple other kids hand money to grinning ones next to them. She smiled, satisfied for the moment. Suddenly she heard a snicker from the row behind her. Of course, it was Jimmy.

"What, Vortex, can't handle the volume?" he sneered. "I'm surprised. Your mouth is more than big enough to prove otherwise."

"At least my head looks like it belongs to my body," Cindy retorted. "You just look like God made everyone else normal and put you together out of the leftover parts." This was only partly true, as Jimmy's head was more proportionate to his body, but he hadn't totally grown into it yet.

Jimmy snarled. "Yeah, your head does belong to your body—they've both been profusely beaten with the Ugly Stick!"

The whole class, who had been watching this exchange intently, gasped _en masse_. Jimmy and Cindy often traded playful banter, but this was more serious than simple competitiveness.

"God, Spewtron, you're more moody and PMS-y than a pregnant--"

"Okay, that's enough," Mr. MacDonald interrupted. "I still want to get somewhere before school lets out. Class, take out Stephenson's Rocket."

The rest of the class passed by normally, if Jimmy and Cindy both heatedly arguing with each other and vying to be the best musician counts as normal. Mr. MacDonald tried to keep them under control in school, but on the walk home, everything fell apart.

Jimmy noticed Cindy walking by herself at the back of the group while he was half-listening to Carl ramble on about llamas or something pertaining to. Interrupting him at the first opportune moment, he fell back until he was in step with Cindy.

"So…" He tried being nice once again. "How was your day? I didn't see you that much."

Cindy snorted. "What do you care, Neutron?"

"I must care some, because I'm using breath to ask. Why are you acting so weird today?"

"_I'm_ acting weird?" Cindy stopped to face him, an incredulous look on her face. "First you're nice to me, then you ignore me, then you're mean to me, and now you're being nice to me again. Don't tell _me_ I'm acting weird."

"You're right, Cindy," Jimmy said in mock agreement, even using her first name. "I am acting weird. But it's only because of bitches like you. You're so fucking selfish; you don't even care how your actions affect the people around you. You only care about what's in it for you. You make my life _miserable_." He spat out the last word as if it were a curse.

Cindy jerked back as if Jimmy had just slapped her across the face. She stared at him with a blank expression, only because she was too shocked to feel anything. She and Jimmy had called each other names before, some insulting, but only in jest. Hearing it in all seriousness and having never heard Jimmy curse before made her mind go blank.

She had to get away, or she was going to stop breathing and pass out. Everything swirled around her, and she started to feel dizzy. Turning sharply on her heel so he couldn't see the tears of anger and pain in her eyes, she almost lost her balance and fell. Then she did the only thing she could think to do: she ran.

She ran opposite the direction everyone was traveling in, back the way they had just come, dropping her backpack on the sidewalk in the process. She thought she heard Jimmy call her name, but it sounded distant, and she just ignored it.

She didn't stop until she got to the park. Briskly walking toward a secluded bench near the lake, she sat down and pulled out her iPod and just pushed play, not caring what song was playing. As fate would have it, the first song was _Dear Angel_ by April Sixth.

She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she just sat there, staring forward._ Sothisis how it feels to hear the one you love practically tell you he feels nothing for you._ She felt empty, drained of all emotion, and her head was pounding. In her newfound pain, she pushed the replay button and the song started over. She closed her eyes, oblivious to reality, and shrunk back into her own black world.

Consequently, she neither heard nor saw anything around her, including the three black clad figures advancing toward her, until it was too late. She was mouthing the words to the music when a piece of duct tape came over her mouth and wrapped around her head, stopping the flow of words and emotions pouring out of her mouth. Before she could react, two more figures grabbed her wrists and ankles, painfully securing the former behind her back.

The first figure appeared before her face, his own face covered by a ski mask. Pulling out one earphone, he hissed in her ear, "Write the lyrics," referring to the song playing on her iPod. The figure holding her wrists released her right one so she could take the pen that the first figure held out. Instead she struggled to get her left hand free, and got a slap across the face in return. Taking a deep breath, she put her right hand back behind her, and pulled on her left hand again. The figures understood, and released her left hand, quickly taking the other back.

Grasping the pen in her left hand, she wrote the date in the top right hand corner, and could hold herself in no longer. Sharp breaths through her nose escaped as muffled sobs, and tears streamed down her face and onto the paper, smudging the ink as she wrote:

_Dear angel of mine,  
Where do I start to express how I feel?  
Well, my love's gone blind  
And now all I feel is what I hear.  
Your words rip and tear,  
Through my heart so weak and pure,  
And I find myself  
__Wanting to die._

_I bleed for the second time tonight,  
Holding the love that's in my mind.  
If only my love could be with you,  
If only this pain, this pain died too!  
So I'll break you away, Away from me.  
Try to break you away,  
Away from me._

_As I sit here alone,  
Thinking about everything that you said,  
Well, since I'm alone,  
Maybe after all I was better off dead.  
'Cause without you,  
My luck's gone down, what do I do  
When I find myself  
Wanting to die?_

_I bleed for the second time tonight,  
Holding the love that's in my mind.  
If only my love could be with you,  
If only this pain, this pain died too!  
I bleed for the second time tonight,  
Holding the love that's in my mind.  
If only my love could be with you,  
If only this pain, this pain died too!  
So I'll break you away,  
Away from me.  
Why can't I break you away,  
Away from me?  
I'll break you away._

_So rip out a cane,  
My enemy.  
Rip out a cane,  
My enemy.  
From my great friend,  
To my enemy!_

_I bleed for the second time tonight,  
Holding the love that's in my mind.  
If only my love could be with you,  
If only this pain, this pain died too!  
So I'll break you away, Away from me.  
Try to break you away,  
Away from me._

_I'll break you away,  
All that's in my mind  
I'll break you away,  
And all that's in my life.  
Sincerely yours._

Finally Cindy understood. The lyrics, perfectly mirroring her emotions, made for the perfect runaway note. No one would suspect a thing. It was flawless, really. Everyone would assume she'd gone on her own as she'd done so many times before, so no one would bother to look for her and by the time they realized something was amiss, it would be too late to save her.

Cindy did not even fight her assailants, for she knew it would be futile, and there was no one around to witness this or to call for help. Just then, as they began walking away with her in tow, she felt a prick in her neck, and her world went fuzzy and faded out all together.

* * *

Hours later, Cindy woke up with a terrible headache. She sat up in the cot she found herself on. As she did so, astrip across the back of her head smarted and throbbed painfully. Examining it with her fingers revealed the blonde hair that had been underneath the duct tape had been ripped out, and the scalp underneath was raw and tender. 

The room she was in, about an eight-foot cube, was all white, even the objects inside it, including the cot, a toilet and small sink, and the clothes on her body. There was one solitary fluorescent light attached to the ceiling and no windows, only a door that slid into the wall and would have gone unnoticed had Cindy not been carefully scrutinizing the walls, trying to find a way out.

Suddenly the wall she was observing opened, and several figures stepped into the room, causing Cindy to tumble backwards. All of them were clad in black, except for their leader, a womandressedinblood red clothes. She was the only one who spoke.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Cynthia," the woman crooned. Cindy only stared at her; she knew this woman from someplace, but couldn't find her name through the thick fog that was her brain. "I hope you find the T-wing suitable to your standards."

"Who are you?" Cindy asked. "And what does the T in T-wing stand for? Why am I here? Will I die here?"

"You know, you talk too much," the woman said with a frown. "You see, when you talk too much, these walls change colors. Even when you don't talk much, they will be changing colors, but I will not tell you that it is magic, because that is a lie.There is no such thing as magic.They are white now, but soon enough they will be redder than my clothes here. If our real target does not show up in time—yes, you are bait for someone else—everything in this room will change from red to black. But you won't die just yet. We have given our target a generous deadline, so don't worry. Until then, try to enjoy yourself. People will come in frequently to visit you, so you won't be alone. Have fun!"

The woman turned and strode from the room with a giggle that left Cindy motionless in realization.

She knew exactly who their "real target" was, and finally the name of the woman in red.

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**I don't know much of the bridge to that song, and no one has the lyrics to the bridge, so I pretty much made that part up. I mean, if you listen to the song it sounds something like it, but that's about it. Just thought I'd clear that up.**

**And about Jimmy's outburst, I'm not sure if that was too much or not. I mean, he is known to say some mean things, and the intention was for him to take it too far, but I'm not sure if as an author _I_went too far. **

**Anyways, I hope you like it. I get such a kick out of when people are like, R&R! R&R! I really don't care if you do or not, but I won't post another chapter until I get at least five reviews for this one. Personally, I'm rather proud of how it turned out. I will keep you no longer. Review as you would have others review you. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it! (I mean flames when I say bad feedback, not constructive criticism)**


	4. I thought You said Forever Over and Over

**Well, I feel kind of stupid. I had this all set, and actually it was going to be one long chapter, but I figured it would be more pleasure-able if they were two separate chapters. I hope to have the next one up by tomorrow or the next day. I have to see if it's long enough for my standards. Oh well. Generally I like to have at least five reviews for a chapter before updating, but I'm breaking that rule tonight. I just couldn't wait. I love this chapter. I love this story. I didn't even know I had it in me. Man. I'm so conceited. **

**Anyways, I don't own any song lyrics you might see here, including the title. That one belongs to Anberlin, owner of one of my other favorite songs, _Paperthin Hymn_. Also, I don't own his alarm, it's _Love is the Movement_ by Switchfoot. Oh, and this was as far as I'd written before I started this story, and the title is mentioned in here. So enjoy!

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At one forty-five on the night of the daythe last timeJimmy and Cindy had argued, Jimmy was still in his lab, even though he had school the next day. He was slouched in his chair, mindlessly playing FreeCell from inability to sleep. Cindy had never done this before, been gone for this long, and it worried him. Suddenly an IM came up on the giant monitor. It was Libby.

**MusicIsLife17**: isn't it past your bedtime?

**CherryWhippyDip**: I guess. No matter how much sleep I get though, I'm still dead come morning. I cant sleep anyways

**MusicIsLife17**: you too? I mean, I know. It's normal for her to run off when she gets mad, but not for this long

**CherryWhippyDip**: I was just thinking that. I just feel so guilty. If something ever happened to her, I wouldn't be able to live with myself

**MusicIsLife17**: don't talk like that! Nothing's going to happen to her. But you were pretty harsh. she's been… out of sorts and snappy lately, and I guess she had it coming sooner or later

**CherryWhippyDip**: no you don't get it. I was trying to be nicer to her, and when she snapped at me like that, I lost all conscious thought—the words were out of my mouth before I could even think them

**MusicIsLife17**: I know that feeling

**CherryWhippyDip**:I don't think you do. My life hangs in the balance of her safety

**MusicIsLife17**: wow. You really do love her, don't you

**MusicIsLife17**:?

**CherryWhippyDip**: …am I that obvious?

**MusicIsLife17**: no.

**MusicIsLife17**: well, yes. But only since this morning.

**CherryWhippyDip**: that's what sheen said

**MusicIsLife17**: that and I can kinda tell what youre thinking these days, since we've known each other for so long and I like to think we've become closer

**CherryWhippyDip**: tell me, is it all in vain?

**MusicIsLife17**: if I changed the subject now would you get suspicious?

**CherryWhippyDip**: quite.

**MusicIsLife17**: I cant say

**CherryWhippyDip**: I get it. I'm going to try to sleep now, since I need to get up early tomorrow

**MusicIsLife17**: wait, jimmy

**CherryWhippyDip**: yeah?

**MusicIsLife17**: if Cindy isn't back tomorrow, will you promise me we'll search for her?

**CherryWhippyDip**: I promise, but only if you promise to not tell Cindy about this conversation, until after I tell her. Its important to me, and I want to be the one she hears it from

**MusicIsLife17**: you got it. My lips are sealed

**CherryWhippyDip**: thanks. Goodnight, libby

**MusicIsLife17**: sweet dreams!

**CherryWhippyDip**: I'll try

_CherryWhippyDip has signed off at 2:32:46 AM.

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_Jimmy, help me…_

The next day, Jimmy found himself in a church pew, garbed in all black, and no recollection of how he got there. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and once the minister started to speak, he felt his entire body fill with grief.

"We are here to remember our dear friend and daughter, Cynthia Aurora Vortex…"

Suicide, the minister said, a knife through the heart. It had her fingerprints on it, and no one else's. That didn't seem like Cindy at all. Something wasn't right. As the eulogy carried on, Jimmy fought the urge to fidget with his program, which turned out to beoddly blank once he looked at it for the first time. Another oddity to this funeral was Libby's absence, along with many of Cindy's other close friends. Jimmy couldn't even see Carl and Sheen, or his family, only a sea of unfamiliar faces and Cindy's squalling parents. _Hm…_

As the minister came to a close, he encouraged Cindy's friends and family to come up to the front and say whatever they wanted to say about or to Cindy for the last time. Jimmy was third in line. As his turn drew nearer, he could feel his mouth going dry and a sweat of nervousness breaking out on his forehead, for his speech had never been uttered to even his dog, let alone a crowd of people he didn't know. After what seemed like years of waiting, it was his turn. Suddenly, a lump grew viciously in his throat and he found to be increasingly harder to make his words formulate sentences with each passing second.

"Hi," he finally managed, "I'm sure many of you already know the… relationship Cindy and I shared, but some of you may not." Here he paused to take a deep breath to stop his horrid shaking. "we definitely did fight all the time. But deep down I... loved her... with a passion comparable to Buttercup and Wesley's. I argued with Cindy on a daily basis so I could get in her face and be close to her without fear of her getting creeped out, because I know she would have. And it were my... desires to be the best and at the same time be near the woman I love that landed her here. I thoughtlessly said things that I didn't mean, and well... the rest is history. If you want to blame me... for the death of this beautiful woman, go ahead; I already do. It was bottled love that led me to make the decisions I made. Friends and family of Cindy Vortex, I implore you, if you love someone, tell them soas much as you can, because you never know how much time you have left with them. Thank you."

As Jimmy left the podium, he passed by Cindy's open casket, herbodylying peacefully inside, and tried not to look at her serene face. Instead, he happened to see her left wrist, left uncovered by her short-sleeved dress. On it was engravedby a knife the words "I thought you said forever, over and over."

Her left wrist. _Oh, my God._

"Cindy!" Jimmy cried, but it was too late.

His words had sunk into the minds of the mourners, and they had become a black angry mob, shouting things like "So much for love!" and "Murderer!" Suddenly Jimmy felt hands all over him, grabbing his clothes and hoisting him up, carrying him out the door, where he was promptly thrown into an abyss right outside the church. He tried to scream, but nothing escaped the endless hole. _So this is hell,_ Jimmy thought. Nothing but cold darkness and the empty euphoria of free fall, for all eternity. _Darkness. Free fall. Cindy. Darkness. Free fall. Cindy. CINDY!_

"Cindy!" Jimmy sat straight up in his bed, his body covered in cold sweat, and his mouth dry. He looked around as his breathing slowed back to normal to find himself in his room again, with the alarm clock singing, "_Get up, get up, love is moving you now. Get up, get up, love is moving you now…_"

"It was a dream. Just a dream," he muttered to himself. That explained the empty program, Libby's absence, and the pit. As Jimmy pondered the pit, he rolled out of bed and vowed to seek Cindy today with every ounce of his intellectual being.

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**Oh, and I figure I'll have my two stories interact, sort of. I like to keep the details I make myself consistent. Such as Cindy's dextrous orientation, which is in fact correct. Check _WL&K_. I'm so proud of myself. So for you groupies which are regulars to my other fic, you're in for a treat! Unfortunately, the next chapter for that is still in the brainstorming process and probably will be until the end of the week. I like to put a lot of thought into what I write. In my notebook, pages 76-84 are mostly scribbles, me trying to find the right words. Yay me! **

**Okay. I like to ramble, I can see. I haven't been able to do this for a minute though, so it's okay. Anyways, review how you want to be reviewed. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it!**

**Oh, and happy 4th of July, if I don't update tomorrow. I won't on Tuesday anyways, 'cause I'll be in the Block Island parade! I can't wait. Marching band rocks my socks.**

**I'm really done now.**


	5. We've Definitely Encroached Enough

**Hey everyone, I'm back, with an especially long chapter for you. Yesterday the beach was fun, even though it was hot and we had to walk to the parade site, and then march the whole way to the end in ninety degree weather. I mean, we got free food, and afterwards we went swimming, where I lost my suit in front of hot topless drunk guys! Okay, I lied. There were hot topless drunk guys there, but I made sure I did not lose my suit, 'cause I'm responsible like that. Really, the only reason I had this done today was because I got fillings at 9 this morning and I couldn't talk since my tongue, lower jaw, and cheeks were numb and swollen. I couldn't even eat or anything. It sucked royally, but after about 3 hours it wore off, thank God. In case you haven't noticed, I write these little spiels after finishing the chapter. **

**Anyways, onward to the goodness!

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After a morning similar to the one previous, Jimmy stumbled out of his front door with only a can of Thin-Fast in his hands. Unfortunately, he wasn't early today as he was yesterday, so when he was walking to his bus stop, he saw the bus coming and had to run to make it on. He sat with Libby, who probably had shoved Sheen into a seat with Carl so Jimmy would be able to talk to her on the ride over to school.

"Do you just want to ditch today?" she asked just as Jimmy was settling in.

"No. I don't think that would be smart. They need all the schooling they can get," Jimmy replied, jerking a thumb at the seat occupied by Carl and Sheen.

"Well, how about just us two?" Libby tried again. "I can manage a day off, and you certainly can."

"I don't really want to arouse suspicion any more than I have to. If we try to go about our daily lives normally, then people will be more likely think that Cindy's home sick or something. We can start searching as soon as school lets out for the day. As of right now, I don't have a plan, but I have eight whole hours ahead of me to make one. I've already started," he finished, holding up the can.

"I don't get it."

"I'm trying to get into Cindy's head, trying to figure out how she thinks, so I can make a hypothesis on where she would head," Jimmy explained. "Criminal psychologists do it every day, and it works."

Before he could say more, the bus had arrived at the Academy. As the friends stepped out, Jimmy whispered to Libby, "Be careful today. Don't tell anyone we don't know where she is. Say she's sick, or on a vacation or something, and _please_ refrain from telling Carl and Sheen too many details. I'll brief them when the time comes."

"You got it, dude," Libby said, giving him a thumbs-up.

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School seemed to pass by normally, once Jimmy kept telling himself everything was okay, and that Cindy was just out sick. But even that didn't work for very long, because Cindy's attendance record was _perfect_. Jimmy briefly smiled when he remembered Cindy at school with the chicken pox, walking pneumonia, various colds and flues, and even pinkeye. But his smile turned to a frown when he remembered how many times he had caught whatever she had over the years and _did_ stay home. 

Classes passed, bells rang. Lunch came and went. By fourth period (second to last), he still had barely started his plan to find Cindy. Even trying to get in her head didn't work very well. _That's because Cindy doesn't think like a normal person does. She never has,_ Jimmy thought. As he walked from the world languages building to the arts building (**yeah, every subject has a building. It's like that at my school too, since it's so big**) last period, he figured he would just abandon trying to think like her and just approach it logically. By the time he reached his locker for band, he had a vague idea of where he wanted to start.

By the time the last bell for the end of the day had rung, Jimmy was more than ready to get to work. He called Libby on his cell phone and had her meet him in the senior parking lot, behind the football field. She was there, waiting for him as he arrived.

"Please tell me your day was bad too," she complained as Jimmy walked up to her in the parking lot.

"Absolutely horrible," he replied. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well if the fact that Cindy wasn't in school-- when she never missed school-- when I would turn to say something to her wasn't bad enough, everyone had to make it worse." Libby sighed. "I told them she was on vacation, and I know they meant well, but it still stung every time someone would ask."

"C'mon, Libby," Jimmy tried to reassure her, "I'm sure she's fine." He took a deep breath and toldher his plan. "Since I can't seem to think of any better way to do this, we're going to go at it logically. We'll start at her home and work our way outwards. If we find no sign of her, we work out of Retroville, but only to the surrounding cities, since we're working after school and are pretty pressed for time."

"It's more of a plan than I had," Libby commented. "Let's make it happen, Cap'n."

Twenty minutes later Jimmy and Libby arrived at the Vortex's front door, a pen and paper in Libby's hand.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Libby asked Jimmy uncertainly.

"I'm not sure of anything right now," he confessed, "but there has to be _some_ answer here."

Mrs. Vortex answered the door when Jimmy rang the bell. She looked horrible, like she had been up all night crying. She was even still in her pajamas, a rarity for any member of the Vortex family at this hour.

"Hi, Mrs. V.," Libby ventured. "May we come in, please?"

As Jimmy and Libby stepped into the living room, Sasha Vortex broke down.

"My baby!" she sobbed plaintively. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"That's why we're here," Jimmy said, placing a comforting hand on Mrs. Vortex's shoulder. "We were going to question you lightly, but I can see you know as much about her absence as we do. So we'll start at the next place. Do you mind if we go up to check Cindy's room?"

"Anything to bring my baby back." Mrs. Vortex had composed herself, but was still visibly struggling to control her emotions.

Jimmy and Libby walked cautiously up the stairs, not knowing what to expect.

Cindy's room looked much the same as the last time he'd been there, Jimmy thought wryly, knowing full well the last time he was there the gang except for Sheen were all ten. She still had the pink theme, but her bed was bigger and her Jimmy-shaped punching bag was gone. _What a relief_.

"All right," Jimmy commanded. "Search for anything suspicious: clothes missing, notes, too much stuff out of place, et cetera. I'll be searching her computer to see if there was any planning involved."

Ten minutes had passed before either one of them spoke again. Libby was the one to break the silence. "I found something!" she exclaimed.

"What is it?" Jimmy swiveled in Cindy's computer chair to face Libby on the bed, an open book in her lap. "A journal?"

"It's probably got a crap load of information!"

"Libby, I don't think you should read it," he cautioned.

"Why not?"

"Because," Jimmy reasoned, "it's where she keeps all her personal thoughts."

"So?"

"So, it would be wrong to encroach on her privacy like that."

"Well, we're in her room, looking through her stuff, and on her computer, all without her permission. That pretty much qualifies as 'encroaching' to me," Libby argued.

"Whatever." Jimmy sighed. "I just don't want to be responsible if she finds out. How about you read it to yourself, and if something of importance comes up, let me know so I can read it. Somehow deliberately trying her trust like that doesn't sit well with me."

"Whatever melts your butter." She casually flipped through Cindy's journal, skimming the pages for anything that could help them find Cindy. Suddenly her face lit up and she called Jimmy over. "I think you might want to read this."

He took the book from her and his eyes widened in realization as he read the entry, one of the last ones in her journal.

_I have a hard time letting go sometimes. Especially any ties to_ him_. I don't know. I figured just shutting him out of my life would make my feelings go away eventually. Hmph. It only made things worse. All I can think about is him, day and night. He slips so easily under my skin, like bacteria. I'm going crazy. Seriously. I have never felt like this. Never. And I'm scared._

_I dreamt about him last night. I was at a party, and I was talking to a friend in the food line. She asked me how I felt about him, if I still hated him or anything. I was like, I don't hate him. On the contrary, I like him very much. And then my friend pointed behind me and he had been there, listening to me the whole time. Somehow his features seemed crisper in my dreams, his eyes bluer than ever. I couldn't seem to look away from them; they looked so full of emotion, so sad and guilty and apologetic. Even as I write this 16 hours later it's all the same in my mind as if I were in the dream now. He looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat, and he said, "If only you had told me earlier. Now I'm leaving, I don't know when I'll be back, but I should let you know I felt the same way." He looked so sincere and morose I started crying, in my dream, and as I reminisce now, I think I would have cried had this taken place in real life. I remember thinking, should I kiss him now or just cry into his shoulder? I decided on neither, just to turn away and try to forget it and forget him, as I have been trying to do for the last month (in real life). I even, in my dream, decided to dance with other guys just so I could forget about him. But everything came back to him._ His touch is so much more gentle than this guy's, _or_ He would have inserted an aerial or wild spin here, or this guy is so out of time. He would never be out of time_. That's_ him_, my pillar, always a reference point for when I get out of time. Unfortunately, I don't know how he reacted; only that he saw me with other guys and started to walk over, because my mom decided to try to wake me up for breakfast. But my dreams have been going in sequence as of late, almost always connecting to the dream of the night prior. I can wait till tonight. _

_This has been nagging at me for as long as I can remember, and I don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes I feel like I will never see him again, and I never was properly able to tell him how I feel, and now I never will. Writing out my fears kind of helps me but not as much as I hoped it would. I know he suspects already, but somehow hearing it straight from me would seem more.. I don't know, right. Maybe it would be for me more than for him. Because if I don't do something with myself now, I don't know what will become of me. I was so happy with my life before I was graced by his bewitching charm. And yet, when I was an addict, I was miserable but in indescribable bliss at the same time. Just seeing him in passing from class to class or in class itself made my day. I search everywhere I go in public, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him, and yet I'm scared to death of what may happen if I do see him. I know my dream is accurate in my mental depiction of him, but I fear the reaction his actual face before mine would induce. It's a horrible feeling, this. My mind and my heart contradict each other and themselves, and I don't know what to feel. Right now I'm just feeling everything, and it's draining me. I know I will be thinking of this in bed tonight as I try to fall asleep, and I will consequently dream of him again. It's a vicious cycle, and it's killing me. I know it's not possible to really love someone unless they can love you back, but I love him. My mouth has longed to utter those words for what seems like eons now, and now my fingers have won the race. I love him. I would do anything for him, even give my life. Just because he probably doesn't feel the same way doesn't mean he doesn't have the capacity. I love him. If feels so good to be able to say that. I don't even mean love like platonic love, or the loosely-used _luv_, but the real deal, the whole nine yards. I love him, with every ounce of my being, with every breath and every beat of my heart. And he'll never know._

"Is this…?" Jimmy didn't know how to respond to what he just read. "Am I him?"  
Libby smiled knowingly. "I told you so," she said, taking the diary back.

"Okay, I think we've found this place clean of anything incriminating," Jimmy declared, clearly uncomfortable.

"Where's the next stop, Chief?" Libby asked.

Jimmy thought for a second before answering. "The park," he finally answered. "There are plenty of places to hide there, and Cindy has been known to go there before, on the other occasions she's run away. Also, that's the direction she ran in yesterday."

As the two walked down the stairs of the Vortex dwelling, they found Cindy's mom curled up on the living room couch, not far from where they left her. Jimmy walked over and sat down next to her, motioning Libby over as well.

"Mrs. Vortex," he started, "we didn't encounter anything to indicate where Cindy has gone in her room, but that does not mean we will terminate the search. I care about your daughter very much and I will do everything in my power to bring her back to you. I know I may have not been the best friend to Cindy lately, but I am the best for the job, because I know better how she thinks than anyone else you could call in."

"We're off to the park now, Mrs. V.," Libby added. "If you have anything helpful, you know my cell number."

"Thank you, kids," Sasha managed. "I appreciate this. And if anyone can bring my Cynthia back, it's you."

"Oh, and Mrs. Vortex?" Jimmy added. "It would behoove you to call the authorities to send in a missing persons. Keep your hopes up; she may just walk in the door tonight."

"Are we really going to the park?" Libby asked Jimmy as they walked south through downtown Retroville.

"No, I'm just using this energy to walk to the entrance and turn around and go home right before entering," Jimmy replied sarcastically.

"Dude, you too sarcastic for my taste. I don't know what Cindy sees in you."

Jimmy scowled at her, even though inside he was grinning wildly. _What she sees in me. I like the sound of that._ Instead of replying out loud, he retorted with another sarcastic remark.

"Yeah, maybe she doesn't like me for my enormous IQ or intellectual capacity. Maybe she just wants me for my outrageously stop-traffic looks." In truth, the only things he actually liked about himself were his height, which broke six feet freshman year, his eyes and his build. Saving the world on a monthly basis after all these years puts one in great shape.

"All right, _egoisto_," Libby said as they walked through the park. "What now?"

"Scour it?" Jimmy guessed. "I had kind of expected to find the answers in her room."

"I guess I'd better get this party started then," Libby quipped as she pulled out her cell phone and pushed a few buttons. "Sheen? It's Libby…. Well, I'm happy you're alive too. I need your help… good, at least someone's willing to get something done. Jimmy and—… yes, I'm at the park with Jimmy… Neutron, you dipstick!... No we didn't do anything. He tried to get me to make out with him, but I just gave him the ol' one-two, just like you said." She stifled a giggle as Jimmy looked at her curiously. "Yeah. So anyways, get Carl and meet us here at the park… why would you need to bring protection? We're not going to _do_ anything, not here at least. So just get Carl and get here, pronto... Uh huh... I love you too. Just don't get killed on your way over."

She sighed exasperatedly as she snapped her phone shut. "He can be so wack sometimes."

Jimmy grinned. "I don't know what you see in him."

Libby glared at him in response.

"Hey," he protested, "I call a spade a spade. Don't blame me."

"I give them ten minutes. If they aren't here at four sharp, I'm starting this on my own."

Fortunately for Carl and Sheen, they met Libby and Jimmy at 3:59. By this time, Jimmy had formulated enough of a plan to get them through the search of the park in less than an hour.

"Okay, here's the game plan," he said as everyone crowded close. "We each have our own corner of the park. Libby, take the far corner, the one containing the lake. Carl, take the corner with the playground and please don't stop to play with anyone or anything, or eat anything either. Sheen, take the more wooded corner, and don't get lost. I'll take the shop/food corner and ask workers if they've seen her. Everyone all set?"

Everyone nodded their heads and went their own ways. Jimmy was interviewing a souvenir shop worker, Skeet, when his phone started to buzz. He looked down and saw it was Libby. "Sorry, Skeet, I have to take this call. Please excuse me for a second."

"_No problemo_, dude," Skeet replied.

Jimmy turned away and spoke softly but urgently into his phone. "Talk to me."

"I found something," she whispered, almost panicky. "You need to get here, ASAP. I'm at a bench at the lake's shore; you can't miss me. I've already called Carl and Sheen, and they're on their way."

"You got it." Jimmy shut his phone and turned back to Skeet, who had been flagrantly picking his nose and examining its contents while waiting for Jimmy to be done. "Well, Skeet, it was nice talking to you, but I gotta run."

"Okay, dude," Skeet said, sticking out the hand he was just picking his nose with for Jimmy to shake.

"No thanks," Jimmy replied, "I already had lunch."

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**Another little side note, Retroville Academy is modeled after my Academy, which is huge and has different buildings for every subject. I get about a mile a day in walking just from class to class during the school year. **

**Also, Cindy's journal entry is actually one of my most recent, and I thought it was really convenient 'cause the guy in my dream had blue eyes. It worked out perfectly. Of course, I changed a few things, but essentially it's the same entry. **

**Review as you want others to review you. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it! Annnnnnnnnd, I'm adding my rule from my other story to this one. I want to make sure I'm not just doing this for a couple people. I need at least five reviews for this chapter before I post the next one, which should be awesome, if sort of short.**


	6. Emotions, they run you

**So I know I've been long in coming, but I learned of something they call writers' block, and I'm still trying to deal with it. I don't know, I never really had a problem with it before. Anyways, I actually had this done last week, but my sister just got out of the hospital and this is the first chance I've had to sit down and type it. **

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Love in a Bottle  
By me, Cassi Mo

Chapter Six: Emotions, they run you

"What have you got, Libby?" Jimmy asked as he slowed his jog to a walk when he saw the group of three already by the lake.

Libby's face shone with hope and sadness simultaneously. "A note."

"Are you sure it's her handwriting?" Carl asked skeptically.

"Of course I do," she snapped back. "She's my best friend. I should know her writing better than anyone."

"So what does it say?" Sheen cried. "I don't got all day, ya know."

Libby sighed. "It's really vague. I think it's a song, but Cindy and I haven't been interested in the same tunage since we were in the fifth grade. She went down the rocky path, and I rode the highway of hip-hop."

"Probably," Jimmy murmured, taking the paper from Libby. "I know this song, but I didn't know she liked April Sixth. I have this song on my computer in the lab."

Upon entering his lab, Jimmy walked straight to his chair and brought up the song. As _Dear Angel_ started to play, everyone crowded around the piece of paper to read the lyrics along with the tune.

Jimmy sighed as the song ended. "A runaway note. So she has taken off this time. Apparently it's directed toward me, considering… how I treated her. I couldconstruct something to properly analyze her handwriting to see how she was feeling when she wrote it."

"You can do that?" Carl asked, amazed.

"Yeah, people analyze handwriting for a living. Your handwriting changes as you're feeling different emotions, even if you don't notice it."

"Yeah, yeah," Libby piped up. "How long?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How long will it take!" she cried desperately.

"Without sleep, about two days," Jimmy replied. "I already have some research done on it, I just haven't had the time to put it together."

"Get to work as soon as you can," Libby demanded. "We'll bring you whatever you need."

An hour later, Libby, Sheen and Carl found Jimmy outside his lab, working on his DNA scanner (and correct me if I'm wrong, but DNA is not found in hair. Other tissues, but not hair).

"This doesn't look like your note-analyzer-majig, Jimmy," Sheen pointed out as they approached him.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Libby said sarcastically. "What are you doing, Jimmy?"

"Well," he explained, "I was thinking during dinner and I realized that it would be more beneficial tocommence tomorrow so I would have a full night's sleep and breakfast to work with. That said, I kept thinking and came to the conclusion that I will not want to be interrupted all the time to let people in. And since I'm not startinguntil tomorrow, I decided to make the most of tonight and slightly adjust the security system on my lab. I'm putting your DNA into my system so you can forego knocking and be able to come down without me having to cause a frustrating cessation in my work to let you in."

Sheen was the first to react to what Jimmy just said. He dropped to his knees and cried, "There is a God!"

"Whoa, Sheen, just because you are temporarily in my system doesn't mean you own the place. On second thought, maybe I'll just put Libby in the system, since she's the most responsible, and you can get let in with her. If you want, you can use that bag of my hair that Carl keeps in his dresser, if he still has it."

Sheen's expression turned dark, and he shook a fist at the sky. "What comes down must go back up eventually!"

"Sheen relax," Libby said. "When you and Carl can learn to keep your mouths shut, you can temporarily be in the system too."

That seemed to pacify him, so Jimmy continued, his voice growing serious. "Here's the plan for tomorrow: As I work in my lab, you three will keep going to school, so as not to cause undue alarm, and to keep rumors from spreading." He gave them all a 'look.' "You _know_ what kind of rumors I'm talking about. Anyways, Libby will come here after school with plenty of Purple Flurp and whatever foods you can bring that have a lot of carbohydrates and/or protein. Carl and Sheen, you will _legally_ search for _scrap_ metal that _no one_ else wants but is still large enough to work with.You can usemy hypercube to store it all in, but please try to act smart about this. Bring as much as you can, because I don't want to have to scavenge for awhile. Once you're done, come straight back, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. Capiche?"

Once everyone nodded, Jimmy exhaled, suddenly very fatigued. "Okay guys, go to bed. I'll see you after school tomorrow."

* * *

Three days later, Jimmy emerged from his lab, pale and haggard. He entered his kitchen to find his mother and sister just sitting down to dinner, both of them eyeing him curiously as he eyed their plates of pasta.

"Grab a bowl, Jimmy," his sister, Sophie, said cheerfully. "The pots are still on the stove."

Jimmy sat down with an overflowing bowl of angel hair and Alfredo sauce, and didn't even give his mother a chance to ask him anything before he dug into his food.

"You look horrible, Jimmy," Sophie said. At four she had an abnormally extensive vocabulary for her age and beyond impressed her preschool teachers. Much of that had to do with having Jimmy as an older brother. "What happened to delay your work another day? I was counting on you being back yesterday."

He paused his scarfing long enough to answer her. "My power cells suffered spontaneous inner core implosions while I was turningthe machineon for the first time. That in turn ruined the holding box for the cells, so I had to spend another day fashioning three new power cells and a new holding box."

Sophie's amethyst eyes followed his beryl ones intently, for not only was her brother her idol, but she knew his attention was not something to be taken lightly. He granted her an affable attitude that he rarely graced his mother with at times, and even though she was many years his junior, he still treated her as an equal. She and Jimmy were closer than siblings in some areas, and communication was one of them.

"Well, that stinks," Jimmy's mom interjected. She hated being left out of conversations and was always butting her way into them. "So is it finished now?"

"Not yet," Jimmy replied, suddenly taking on a bored tone. "I still have to test it." He turned eagerly to Sophie. "Do you want to help me test it? You can write sample notes for me and get to hang out in the lab."

"Yeah!" Sophie exclaimed. "When?"

"After the dishes are done, I guess. We can test it and then call the others. How does that sound?"

Sophie made a strange expression. "As long as Sheen doesn't pester me like he normally does."

"I can't promise anything with Sheen, but if he gives you any trouble, you just tell me or Libby and we'll set him straight as a rod."

* * *

"So how were you feeling when you wrote this one?"

Jimmy passed the note written by Sophie under the reader eye of the Neutronic Note-alyzer and waited at the console nearby for the results. The machine itself was huge; Jimmy couldn't downsize it on account of the time limit. He had it in one corner of his larger workroom of his lab since it wouldn't fit in the other one without makingthe alcovecluttered. Standing over eight feet tall and six feet wide, it easily dwarfed any other invention in his cache, besides his vehicles. Right now he was in front of it, pushing buttons fervently.

"It says you're excited… and eager." Jimmy's tone held defeat. "Like the last five notes." But Sophie wasn't one to give up so easily.

She giggled. "Well, it's right. I am excited to be testing out your new invention, and I'm eager to see if it really works. I can't seem to make myself feel any other way. Did you get my hidden message?"

Jimmy pushed one more button before answering. "'Jimmy has smelly feet,'" he read. "It's okay. Your feet reek too. I can accept that the hidden message finder works, but I'm still not convinced about the emotion detector."

"Then how about you write something?" Sophie suggested. "Like a second opinion, to deepen the pool of results. If it turns out the same, then don't call the guys in."

Jimmy hugged her, suddenly refilled with new hope. "I knew I taught you something worthwhile in these last four years. What should I write, though?" he asked, walking over to the long worktable in the middle of the room.

"Anything," she replied, "whatever is on your mind."

Jimmy sighed and started to write. Two minutes later, he held up a paper filled with words. He passed it under the reader eye and watched the words come up on the screen.

_Dear Sophie,_

_It's 8:30pm and past your bedtime, but I have you in my lab for machine testing. We are testing my Neutronic Note-alyzer, which bears your name in addition to mine. I'm not sure if I like that idea, but that's a different story for another time. If it works, we'll use it on Cindy's runaway note. Speaking of Cindy, I'm not sure whether to be worried about her or not. I know she can take care of herself; I've seen her do it, but she's only 16 and has led a fairly sheltered life. I hope this is long enough._

_Love,  
__Jimmy_

"So?" he asked anxiously. "What does it say about the note?"

Instead of answering him directly, Sophie asked him a question of her own. "Why does it say you're feeling hopeless, afraid and defeated?"

Jimmy grinned. "Right now, I'm actually elated that it works." His face fell as he answered her question in depth. "Worrying about Cindy has drained me of all my other emotions. Soph, I'm the reason this all came to pass. I said words I didn't even know I could think about another person, let alone the woman I love. Locating a runaway is hard business, because there are infinite variables. I dreamt about her the other night, you know."

"Nope, I didn't know," Sophie replied, sitting down on the floor. "Sometimes, if you talk about what's bothering you, it doesn't bother you as much."

"I was at a funeral," he started, "Cindy's funeral. The programs were blank and the only people I recognized besides her were her parents. At the end, I got up to say something about me being the cause of her death, and as I was leaving, I saw words carved into her left wrist. Cindy is left-handed, you see, so this made things complicated. They said it was suicide, but I knew then that she was murdered." Jimmy's tone became more introverted as he continued, now talking more to himself than to Sophie. "But before I could do anything about it, the mourners grabbed me and threw me into an endless pit. I was never so scared in a dream or in real life as I was then. Even doing calculations about it to prove it wrong didn't help. I felt horrible when I woke up, because I'm usually the strong one, but I wasn't strong enough to save her."

Halfway through this he had slumped to the floor and now Sophie climbed into his lap. "Don't talk like that. You're a genius, and I know in my heart that if anyone can bring her back, it's you. Remember, even death cannot stop true love. Whether you want to admit it or not, you and Cindy were fated to be together since the beginning of time. She won't slip through your fingers. And believe me, if I can see it at only four years old, everyone can, including you."

"You know," Jimmy commented, "children do think the clearest." With a yawn, he stood and said, "I'll show it to them tomorrow. I've been up too long, and I'm way overdue for some much-needed sleep. What do you say?"

Sophie smiled and took his hand. "Let's go."

* * *

**I know, I need to stop with these long notes, but I'll be proofreading and I need to write something. (I still use April Sixth illegally and it's not mine.) I just needed to say that _tunage_ is pretty much music. Like Ron Stoppable calls snacks _snackage_, I do that for music. **

**I'll admit it. This chapter was mostly a filler. I needed to introduce Sophie, because she'll be important later. The next chapter should be better, though.**

**Always review how you want to be reviewed. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it!**


	7. Interlude

**This has to be one of the shortest chapters I've ever put up here. It's okay. I'm utterly exhausted from band camp, which ends tomorrow, and in a bad mood. I'll do what I want, and if you contradict me, I'll shoot you in the face. Okay, not really, but don't try me. This is kind of... uh, upsetting, I think, so brace yourself for the below. **

Love in a Bottle  
By me, Cassi Mo.

Interlude

She wasn't seeing much with her eyes. Caked with blood and swollen from the beatings, there wasn't much worth seeing anyways.

She wasn't saying much with her voice. No one responded to her weak pleas, growing fewer and fewer by the day, and her throat turned raspy from disuse, as if she was perpetually in a state of having just woken up.

She wasn't feeling much with anything.

Alas, Cindy had retreated inside herself. It had been over a month since she had been demoted to this chamber, chained and beaten like an unwanted dog. Every time she woke up it was the same room, with the same sounds, same smell, same sheets, sodden with blood, on her hard cot. There was nothing new worth being aware of here.

At least she wasn't alone. Someone always came into her room, five times a day, a new cronie every time. She new nothing of their croaked language other than tone of voice, yet they still spoke to her as if she would magically understand and respond. They came in, crooning and smacking their weapon of choice into the other hand. Humanoid figures with no heart, they beat her until they were satisfied or until she passed out. Recently the latter happened more often than the former, but she only felt apathy. The pain itself even seemed distant, automatically taking a backburner to what she had on her mind at the moment. She knew the torture hurt, and that it was supposed to hurt more than it did, but she found out that if she acted like it didn't care or that something was more important, she almost forgot about it.

Forgetting about something doesn't erase it.

However, it was not the cronies that kept her company in this proverbial valley she traveled through. To keep her mind together, she relived every memory she had, starting from when she could first remember to the last happy memory she retained. Memories of the naive, carefree days where all that mattered were what she was wearing and whether she passed the final in a certain class. Memories of her family, friends, and various other people who came and went in her life. She dreamed of the days that she would turn and know that at least one friend would be standing behind her, physically and emotionally.

She missed them something terrible, and dry sobbed herself to sleep every night, having no way to dispel any tears through her blood sealed eyelids. She missed the nights she didn't dare cry for fear of what other people would think, especially her mother. Now she didn't care who saw her cry; no one in that building cared if she cried or not. She missed her best friend, who would, on the rare occasion she did let her emotions loose, hold her close, whispering words of comfort as she soaked her shirt with her pent up tears.

Most of all, she missed _him_. She missed the verbal sparring, the rush of feelings when he got in her face, the way her heart skipped a beat as he entered a room she was in, the shock that ran up and down her spine on the rare occasion they accidentally touched. With him, she couldn't be herself, and yet conversely, she could. An odd paradox she puzzled over many nights in her prison, but there was no other way to describe it in her mind.

And her mind was all she had now, so who was to say she was wrong?

**I'm not sure if I missed anything or not, so this will be short. Is the singular of 'cronies' spelled with an i-e? It doesn't look right for some reason.**

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